


Of Pricks and Pining

by holdbythenotsharp



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Kiss, Hotel Sex, I tried to write porn but feelings happened, M/M, Oops, Or more like "platonic" sex, Phone Sex, Pining, Platonic Sex, Smut, Stupid Boys being Stupid, The Slightest Hint Of Bondage I Guess?, Workplace Sex, dorm room sex, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdbythenotsharp/pseuds/holdbythenotsharp
Summary: Maybe helping each other let out some steam is something they could do sometimes. It doesn’t have to be weird or nothing.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 80
Kudos: 133





	1. The One Where They Are At Work

**Author's Note:**

> My eternal gratitude is with my beta, the incredible and saint-like @secondhand_watermelon.

Aggressive typing. What sounds like very aggressive backspace smashing followed by even more aggressive typing and an overtly dramatic sigh. The sigh is so blatantly begging for attention, so classically Link, that Rhett resolves to give in. He finishes the sentence he is typing with a calm, collected air, and swivels around in his chair.

“I see you’re frustrated.”

There’s a fragment of annoyance — Rhett really did have a nice flow going before the interruption — but he is mindful of his tone. This may not be a good time to rile Link up any further. At least not yet.

“I’m fine, man, I’m tryna stay positive and not go into a negative mode, you know. I’m just _frustrated_ and the last thing I wanna do is complain. I know everyone associated with the project is working really hard so I’m not gonna complain. Because you know, it’s not about me and what I want, I’m just — everything that’s happening, I can’t believe all the ways it’s already gone — it’s not that things have gone _wrong_ , it’s that I feel they could be better, is what I’m saying. Again, I’m not complaining.”

“It sounds like you are.” The overgrown mustache may make it easier for Rhett to hide the smirk he can’t quite swallow down, but his cheeks are balling up treacherously. “Come on, bro, tell me how you really feel.”

“You don’t wanna know how I feel, man.” Link huffs. “I’m so on edge I wanna punch somebody.”

“You need some help with that?”

The self-involved bubble of temper that had enveloped Link bursts and leaves him staring and blinking. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Need some help getting it out of your system? Calm down a bit?”

The way Rhett suggests it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, even having the gall to lean back in his chair a bit, legs splayed wide and long, dark denim stretching to cover them, makes Link’s heart gallop. Rhett doesn’t break eye contact when he lifts his arms and crosses his wrists behind his head. He’s definitely trying to rile Link up now.

“Here? We’ve never done it here. We can’t!” If Link is aiming for a whisper, he’s missing by a long shot. “Are you insane?”

“The door does lock.” Rhett shrugs, brings his arm down and starts to swivel back around. For a moment, it seems Link’s not taking the bait, and Rhett considers whether calling him a chicken would be overkill.

“There’s crew right outside it! And we never lock the door! If somebody tried to come in, they’d know something’s up.” Neither of them says a word, but Link shuffling his feet on the floor and puffing out little exhales makes enough noise to fill the gap in their conversation. “We have a meeting in like twenty minutes,” he musters out as a final, weak attempt at rejecting his friend’s proposition.

Rhett turns back to face him again, licking his lips, really soaking up the sight of his best friend and business partner teetering deliciously off-balance. He reaches up to comb his fingers through a cloud of curls, pulls the hair tie from his wrist, twists it and pulls the messy bundle of hair through it again. “Like you would last more than five.”

Link is still blushing and fidgeting too much to say yes, but he hasn’t said no, either. So Rhett gets up, walks over to the door and locks it. He turns back around and is faced with a glorious sight. A beautiful man, looking undone, mouth hanging open and pupils blown wide. The front of his sweatpants is already sporting a tent. If Rhett didn’t know any better, he’d think Link was into the prospect of office sex and the possibility of getting caught. Rhett takes a few long strides forward, stopping a few feet away from his friend.

“So. You need some help with that?” He nods at the conspicuous bulge.

“Yeah.” Link breaks out of his disorientation to groan an answer. He has a brilliant, curious mind, and Rhett savors his musings and jokes, but there is something to be said for the times he is utterly speechless.

Rhett had hoped to kneel in a fluid, seductive manner, but in all honesty there hasn’t been a fluid joint in his body for more than ten years, so his movements are stammering and accompanied by grunts. With only minor difficulty, he manages to get down on the floor, sitting with his legs folded underneath him. Link is sitting up very straight in his chair and has finally stopped fiddling around.

“Can I suck your dick?”

Link freezes. His eyes are wide and a hand that was on its way to push up his glasses floats forgotten in midair. Rhett lays his palms on the grey striped rug and lifts up his ass, taking care to arch his back enough to make sure it’s noticeable. He then proceeds to do his best Catwoman impression, crawling over towards the vibrating ball of lust and nerves with unwavering eye contact. It feels silly and Rhett barely stifles a giggle, but judging by Link’s face, it’s doing something.

“Can I?” Rhett prompts. He has reached Link’s feet and is sitting on his knees again, very slowly and gently extending a hand to cup Link’s knee. As much as he enjoys teasing Link and driving him insane, he knows balancing between horny and overwhelmed can be precarious for his best friend, and too much pressure at the wrong moment can spiral him into anxiety. He’s made that mistake a couple of times and knows getting impatient will never amount to any good, especially when sex is in question.

“Please, Rhett.”

The hoarse whisper is all the encouragement Rhett needs to hook his hand under the waistband of Link’s sweats and shorts. “Come on, help me out.” he barks and Link obediently lifts his ass off the chair enough for Rhett to slide them both down and reveal his erection.

Link is impressively hard considering his cock hasn’t been touched yet. Rhett runs his hand down the rigid member and leans in closer to hover his open mouth over Link’s shaft, almost touching but not quite, just letting his hot breath hit soft, tender skin. When his mouth finally makes contact, Link whines and Rhett knows for sure that there is no way he isn’t really into this, danger of being caught and all. Rhett sweeps his mouth down the side of Link’s shaft, then mouths at his balls like he doesn’t have a care in the world, much less a meeting to go to in about sixteen minutes.

Rhett sucks a testicle into his mouth and Link honest-to-god wails. Rhett releases his catch and turns up to look at the wreck of a man sitting above him. “Shush, man, are you trying to get us caught?” he hisses.

He gets no response, so he goes back to running his mouth over Link’s cock with one hand holding it up by the root. He moves his mouth closer to the reddened, leaking tip and ultimately over it as Link trembles and moans, a bit more quiet this time. Rhett has always been a fan of semi-public sex, and being indulged at last, coupled with Link’s luscious unraveling, has his cock pressing hard against the fly of his jeans. Rhett presses the palm of his other hand on his bulge; he really wants to jack off, but there isn’t a lot of time and his focus needs to stay on getting the other man off. Link is so overwrought, Rhett knows he’ll be intolerable for the rest of the day, if he doesn’t get off now..

Rhett alternates between sliding his lips over the swollen tip and backing off and giving it a couple of licks. Link’s eyes are transfixed on him as he begins to go down further with every bob of his head, attempting to hold eye contact, even though it gets harder as Link’s dick hits somewhere in the back of his mouth.

Link doesn’t know what to do with his hands, taking turns grabbing the arm rests of his chair and Rhett’s head. Rhett braces himself and takes in all of his friend’s cock, resisting the urge to choke and pull back, even when his eyes are watering. When he comes back up for air, Link is white-knuckling the arm rests, his head slumped back and his mouth wide open.

It shouldn’t take too long now, so Rhett starts really sucking, bobbing his head and fist in unison. He is going slow but strong and Link is meeting his every move with his hips, not making noise, letting out broken, disconnected breaths. Rhett knows the face Link’s making right now, warped with pleasure, eyes closed, brows furrowed. Even if he can’t see it right now, he’s seen it often enough to know it by heart.

Link’s breathy moan fills the office as his cum fills the mouth around his cock. Rhett swallows it all without wincing or complaining. He would never admit it, but he’s grown to like the flavor of Link’s semen. It’s savory and somehow very Link. And Rhett’s a savory man, after all. He glances at his watch and sure enough, they still have eight minutes. That should be enough time for Link to catch his breath and Rhett to will his insistently throbbing erection away.


	2. The One Where It Happens For The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time was an isolated incident — or so they thought for a long time. Considering how often over the following years they both replayed the events in their heads, occasionally with their fists clenched tight around their slicked cocks, one could argue it was bound to happen again. But as it was unfolding, the first time seemed like a fever dream to them both: surreal and something better forgotten than revisited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heartfelt thank you to a most fantastic beta reader and person, @secondhand_watermelon, who tried her best with this chapter. Any nonsense that remains is my own.

The first time was an isolated incident — or so they thought for a long time. Considering how often over the following years they both replayed the events in their heads, occasionally with their fists clenched tight around their slicked cocks, one could argue it was bound to happen again. But as it was unfolding, the first time seemed like a fever dream to them both: surreal and something better forgotten than revisited.

Sophomore physics had been kicking Rhett’s ass. It was especially aggravating for him, because he identified as “the smart kid”. He had coasted through high school with good grades, never putting much work into his academic performance, choosing to focus his efforts into basketball instead. College was different. College required him to actually put his mind and ass into it and frankly, he wasn’t too happy about it.

Link wasn’t entirely surprised by the physics textbook soaring through their shared dorm room, but he was a bit startled by the smack it made hitting the wall opposite their bunk beds. He poked his head over the side of the top bunk and looked down at his best friend.

“Dude!” he exclaimed.

Rhett did not acknowledge the indignation in Link’s voice in any way. He was lying on his back, looking miserable, skinny forearms covering his face. His long limbs were barely contained by the dinky dorm bed, poking out of a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts.

“Hey, man?” Link offered with a softer voice.

“Screw the wave equation, man, when am I ever gonna need this crap? I’m jus’ wastin’ my time on this.” Rhett grumbled from behind his arms.

“You’re gonna need it to pass the test. Trust me, you don’t wanna fail and hafta retake it.”

“Oh crap, what if I fail?” The possibility just now occurred to Rhett. He might fail. He’d never failed a thing in his life. Would he have to tell his parents? Because his dad would for sure be mad. Or disappointed, whichever is worse. What if he retakes it and still can’t pass? What if…

“Hey.”

Rhett’s mental free fall was interrupted by careful fingertips on his arm that retracted as quickly as they had landed. Rhett let his arms fall above his head and saw Link sitting gingerly on the edge of the bottom bunk.

“Yer not gonna fail if ya study. And stop flinging the book around.” Link smirked.

“What if I do though?” Rhett sighed. “That’s all I can think about. I just don’t get it and I’m not gonna, so why even…”

“Shut up, man.” Link was impatient. “It’s like you’re creating this, this, you’re making yourself more stressed out when you think like that, you know? And you shouldn’t, because it’s counterproductive for — basically — it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. When you think you can’t do it, you get stressed out and overwhelmed and then you can’t study, and then you can’t do it.”

“Well, I know that, don’t I?” Rhett groaned.

“Stop doing it then!”

“I can’t! You think I’m choosing to feel like this, dumbass?”

“You’re the one who’s being a dumbass! I care for you and I jus’ wanna help, man, but you’re always pushin’ me away, actin’ like you’re smarter and you know better. Well, ya clearly don’t.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like crap all the time.” Rhett was staring straight ahead, hoping Link wouldn’t notice he was barely holding back tears. Link had a frustratingly accurate aim for extinguishing his anger with sincerity and softness when it was least expected.

“We’re gonna figure it out.”

“We?” What was meant as a disdainful snort came out as a woeful sniffle.

“Yeah, we. You know I’ll do anything I can to help.” There it was again, the disarming earnestness Rhett couldn’t bring himself to mock even if he wanted to. “And you know what, the first thing I’m gonna do is tell you to go to bed, cause it’s late and you need some rest. And then tomorrow I’mma help you study.”

“How are you gonna help? You haven’t taken this class. You don’t know any of this stuff either.” Rhett was exhausted and his resistance was weak.

“I’ll figure something out. How hard can it be?” Link flashed a bright smile, but withdrew it after seeing his best friend’s glum expression. “Sorry.” He turned his eyes towards his hands, that were picking at the hem of his shorts. “You wanna hit the hay? I can turn off the lights.”

Rhett had no defiance left in him. It felt so good to give in and be cared for. He mumbled a response, watched Link get up to fold his clothes neatly on his chair, and wiggled his way under the covers without bothering to undress. He was so tired. Almost ready to fall asleep any minute. Almost.

When he closed his eyes, a wave of fear crashed over him. Mostly it was unintelligible noise, a stream of consciousness too quick to grasp. At the heart of it, though, was the anxious thought that he needed to study. He opened his eyes to see a Link-shaped shadow by the bed.

“Link?” He opened his mouth without knowing what he wanted to say, but knowing he needed to say it.

“Good night, bro.”

“Link, I can’t sleep. Or, I don’t know. I can’t calm down. I think I need some help. Can you, can you maybe talk to me? Or like stroke my hair or something?”

“Are you serious?”

“Never mind. Go to sleep.”

Rhett turned to face the wall, face hot with tears and shame. After a moment, the mattress under him moved and there was another small touch on his arm, so close to nonexistent, he could have missed it if he hadn’t been so on edge. Rhett let out a hum he hoped sounded at least vaguely positive and encouraging. The touch moved to the short hair on the back of his neck and seemed to gain some confidence.

“You don’t have to, you know. If you don’t want to.” Rhett felt obligated to give his friend an out.

“I know. Does it help?”

“Yeah.”

The length of Link’s body hovered against Rhett’s, about as close as it could get without actually touching him. Link ran his fingertips over the other boy's hair, and Rhett couldn't resist leaning into Link's touch like a puppy getting scratched behind its ear. For a comforting moment, the only thing existing in the darkness was the heat of Link’s breath on Rhett’s neck and his gentle, soothing touches.

“You asleep?” Link whispered to Rhett, as he moved his hand sluggishly drifting in and out of consciousness.

“No. I can’t sleep.” Rhett was still staring at the wall. Being held did help. It felt real nice, actually, but he was still wound too tight to think about anything but his heart beating too fast and the blood rushing through his body. “I don’t know what to do, man.”

“Rub one out.” A fit of giggles shook through both of their bodies. “I’m serious, though,” Link continued, after the fit of laughter had passed. “I bet it would help.”

“It’s so late. I don’t wanna get up and go all the way down the hall to the shower. Plus, I always feel kinda gross jerking off in a communal space anyway.”

“Then don’t.”

Rhett needed a moment to process what exactly Link was trying to say. In fact, Link needed a moment to process what exactly he had just said. Unlike his friend, he was a verbal processer.

“I mean, what I’m saying is, if you wanted to. Because it’s not like we haven’t. Of course, we _haven’t_ , but I don’t think it’s that weird. You know. Like we’ve seen each other naked and it’s just. I know you do it. And I do it. And it doesn’t have to be weird if we don’t, because you’re my best friend, if we don’t make it weird and it kinda just feels like one more thing, you know what I mean?”

“Are you messing with me, Link? Like, is this some sort of an elaborate prank? Because I swear…” The sentence had already started to trail into nothingness when Link cut him off.

“No! I jus’ want you to feel okay, bo,” he lisped.

“Link.”

“I swear. When have I ever lied to you?”

Link had never lied to Rhett, not even once, during the years they had spent together. A fact they were both very aware of. Link had never betrayed Rhett’s trust, never let him down. And what was one more thing between best friends?

“I just need it to go to sleep. It’s not a big deal and we’re not gonna talk about it,” Rhett decided, trying to convince Link, or himself, or both. He could feel the other boy nodding and humming into the back of his neck, body staying still, pressed against his.

If you had asked Rhett about thirty-eight seconds ago if he could ever be aroused and get himself off while lodged snugly between a skinny boy body and a bare wall in a narrow bunk bed, he would have said no. Of course not. But for a young man in the prime of his horniness, the tables can turn so quickly. Really, if Rhett was honest with himself, he was basically turned on half the time anyway, walking about his life ready to pop off.

Maybe he could imagine Link’s body against his was Miss Perfect’s instead, her hands in his hair, her breath on his skin. Instead of being painfully aware of the blood rushing through his body, he was now aware of it rushing into his cock, and he felt at least marginally less anxious.

Rhett palmed his erection over the taut fabric of his shorts. He thought about her hands on him, about her whispering into his ear about how big he was and how she couldn’t wait. He slid his hand into his shorts to grasp his cock and was caught up in the fantasy, at least for a few short, awkward tugs, before the shorts started to feel severely restricting and sweaty. There wasn’t much of a thought process associated with pulling his dick out, bringing his hand to his mouth and letting a glob of spit into it. When he finally wrapped his slick palm around his shaft and gave his cock a decent pump, his hips bucked forward and back again of their own accord. He was entirely immersed in the scene playing in his head — until he wasn’t.

If Rhett’s mind had not been so clouded, he might have put two and two together and realized what had poked him the first time his hips rocked back. But he wasn’t at his sharpest, and as a result, his first impulse was to push his ass back again, into whatever had appeared between him and the person in his bed.

If he had forgotten the person was Link, the stifled but decidedly masculine moan in his ear was sure to bring him back into reality.

All the sound and movement in the room ceased to exist, and the only thing left was air thick with lust and panic. Rhett clutched his leaking, throbbing cock, trying to rattle a decision out of his hazy brain. Stop or go, stop or go? Which would he regret less after the sex fog wore off?

Link felt sick to his stomach. He had tried so hard to fight back, keep from touching himself despite needing it more than anything, ever. He had tried to be a good friend, instead of a selfish jerk. But he had been found out anyway and everything was ruined.

Rhett took the dive first. He figured that was his role in their friendship anyway, make a decision and lead the way. Wherever he had gone, Link had always faithfully followed and never looked back. Surely this would be no exception. So he gave himself a stroke. Then another one.

“S’fine,” he mumbled to his petrified friend.

Rhett’s state of alarm was relieved by jittery hands moving down his neck to his shoulders. Link was shaky as hell, but he was still there and that had to count for something. So Rhett kept going. He kept jerking his hand along his shaft and moving his hips to meet his fist. Every time he pulled his body back, he felt the head of a cock poking him right above the buttock and a squeeze on his shoulder tightening.

“It’s okay.”

On the next sway of Rhett’s hips, Link met them halfway and let out a shaky breath. Even the tiniest bit of friction on his touch-starved dick felt overwhelming. He was terrified but couldn’t help rutting into Rhett’s body. Every jolting movement he made to chase some kind of relief was only making him more desperate. He wasn’t getting enough. Not enough contact, not enough pressure. Pursuing just a bit more impact, he moved to grab Rhett’s waist and started to grind on his back, gripping tight enough to bruise. Rhett growled, low and dangerous, and Link’s gasps were starting to get muddled by mewls as well.

Link needed more still. He was starting to hurt from rubbing his dick dry on the inside of his cotton shorts, but he just needed a little more. His hand snaked further around Rhett, trying to get a good grip somewhere on the lanky boy’s flat stomach as they both frantically careened towards release. Suddenly Rhett’s cock was _there_ and Link couldn't stop himself from wrapping his hand around the base of it. He didn't care, and from the choked-out sound Rhett made as Link grasped him, neither did his friend. He moved his hand, stroking Rhett, trying to urge out another one of those beautiful sounds. Rhett let him do it, bracing both his forearms on the wall and desperately trying to peek down his body at the determined hand jerking him off. The darkness made it impossible, so Rhett closed his eyes and imagined Link's familiar hand instead

The hand brushed over his glans and smeared his wet all over his cock. Oh goodness, why did that feel so, so much better than anything he ever did to himself in the dark? Rhett couldn’t slow down. He was hurtling into ecstasy with broken brakes and hands off the steering wheel. As Link’s strokes became increasingly frantic and desperate, and he twisted his hand _just right_ , pleasure took over everything and Rhett came, harder than he’d imagined possible.

The first faint thought to venture back into Rhett’s mind was that there must be cum on Link’s hand now — his cum — and Link must be so grossed out. The second was that Link’s mouth was on him, open and wet, crushed tight against his tee shirt-clad shoulder in a futile attempt to stifle his cry. Link’s body convulsed and curled against him and a wetness seeped through the back of Rhett’s shirt.

Neither of them knew what the right thing to say in a situation such as this was, so neither of them said a thing. Link backed off, fumbled around for his robe and shower caddy and disappeared into the hallway. Rhett stared at the wall until merciful sleep overcame him. By the time Link returned, dripping and shivering, he was greeted by Rhett's snores, and he crawled into his own bed without a word.

They never spoke of it. It was an isolated incident, never to be repeated. And if any awkwardness surfaced between them in the days and weeks that followed, neither of them acknowledged it, resolutely ignoring it until it vanished altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on tumblr, I'm holdbythenotsharp there, too.


	3. The One Where They Are Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whenever Link’s phone rings in the middle of the night, he knows who it is, and it’s not just because only a handful of people get through his Do Not Disturb mode. On this particular Saturday at 3:24 a.m., after he went to bed knowing his best friend had gone to a concert and was probably drinking, he is already expecting the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again all thanks go to @secondhand_watermelon for betaing and being generally lovely and kind.

Whenever Link’s phone rings in the middle of the night, he knows who it is, and it’s not just because only a handful of people get through his Do Not Disturb mode. On this particular Saturday at 3:24 a.m., after he went to bed knowing his best friend had gone to a concert and was probably drinking, he is already expecting the call.

He reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand at the first irritating bleep tearing through the peace of his bedroom, but takes a couple of seconds to stare at the screen before answering. He’d rather not come off too eager.

“Yeah?” His voice sounds gruff when he finally answers. He’s clutching the phone tight against his ear, his other hand scratching down his chest and stomach at an idle pace, following the trail of hair to the waistband of his shorts.

“Neal! What are you up to, man?” Rhett sounds excited and something slams in the background.

“I was sleeping. You know, the thing people do at 3 a.m.” The corners of Link’s mouth are pulling up into a soft smile. Rhett’s voice lingers in his ears, nestles somewhere in his core and lights a little fire for warmth — even if it is an ungodly hour and he feels the need to go through this whole spiel about being inconvenienced. “What’re you up to, calling me at this time of night?”

“Not much, just got home. The show was wild, you shoulda...” Loud thuds and Rhett’s quiet laughter interrupt the sentence. “I’m home now and I just wanted to call you real quick. Ask you how ya are.”

“In bed alone’s how I am. That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

“Not the only thing I wanna hear.” Rhett’s voice is lower now, too. Words are rolling off his tongue slow and slurred. Link can hear him smiling and fucking hell, if he isn’t easy for this man and his dumb flirting and his pretentious bedroom voice.

“Oh yeah?”

They take a moment to listen to each other breathe and circle the unavoidable. They both know what this call is about, what calls like these are always about. Voicing their intentions and acknowledging the exact nature of what they’re doing is always more tricky and delicate than being face to face, just _doing_. Rhett is the first to give. “I thought about you tonight.”

Link is caught off-guard by the confession. He was expecting something more like _What are you wearing?_ to begin with, and maybe something soft later, if he’s lucky.

“You looked real good at work,” Rhett goes on. “Those jeans fit nice. And the shirt too, issa good color on you. Couldn’t stop looking all day. Just wanted to get my hands on ya.”

“What did you wanna do to me?” Link is already breathless and blushing far more violently than a middle aged man has any business doing. Sometimes when they talk like this, when it’s late and Rhett is drunk, their walls drop and their tongues take flight. They’ll ride the waves of arousal, chasing their own orgasms, or each other’s, and say desperate things one might say to a lover. They’ll whisper things that only exist in those moments and are swiftly forgotten after the waves have crashed against the shore and the waters are serene again. Rhett revealing that he's desired Link in the light of day is new, though - and it feels more scandalous than any dirty talk.

“I wanted to grab you by the hips. Pull you on me, straddling me. Wanted to grind up on you ‘til you’re beggin’ me to take your clothes off. Wanna make you beg for me, get you all desperate and needy, pretty little blush creepin’ up your cheeks.”

“Ohh, please.” Link is not going to admit he’s already there — already desperate, needy and blushing — but he’s not above a _little_ begging.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho, that’s not nearly good enough.” Rhett’s belly laugh booms over the line. “You know I wouldn’t stop that easy. Oh no, I’d keep going until you’re absolutely fuckin’ wrecked for me.”

“Don’t tease. I’ll be real nice for you, I swear. I’ll do what you want.”

“You gonna do what I say for once?”

“Anything.” The word is barely more than a breath, it's so light, but Link feels crushed under the weight of it.

“You hard for me, Neal?” Rhett murmurs. “You wanna touch yourself with me, make it real nice and slow?”

Link does want it. It’s hopeless and wretched and far too much to bear, how much he wants it. He’s afraid he may shatter if he gives himself to Rhett: all of him, the way he really wants. But then, he may sink into the abyss and be lost for good if he doesn’t.

“I need it.”

“I know you do. C’mon, bo, touch yourself, tell me what you need. Use your words for me, yeah?”

“You touching yourself already?” Link asks. He’s been running his fingers along his cock for a while now at a leisurely pace, just playing with it, rather than really pleasuring himself.

“Been doin’ it, Neal.” Sure enough, with a little straining, Link can hear the sound of skin on skin, wet and slick. He imagines the other man jacking off in his bed too, all sloppy and breathing heavy. As much as he enjoys these late night calls, the craving to see Rhett, to feel him, is almost unbearable right now.

“Please.” Rhett sounds raspy and haggard. “Tell me what you need.”

“I just need you to help me out, Rhett. I need you to, I need…”

“Yeah, okay. Breathe, baby. I got you.” The unexpected pet name does it, Link is throbbing and aching for touch. He’s fumbling around in his nightstand for lotion or something to smooth his strokes.

“Fuck your fist for me. I wanna hear it,” Rhett commands. Link, for once silent and obedient, wraps his hand lightly around his dick. He tugs on it gently, basking in the pleasure rippling through him with every movement. He can’t hold back the whimpers that have been building up somewhere deep and start to bubble up to the surface through his lips.

“Yeah, moan for me. You always moan so sweet.” Rhett urges him on.

“Yeah? Feels so good, I...” Link stops trying to hold back the need for Rhett bursting out in desperate moans. He wants to drive Rhett wild, wants him to experience the same inconsolable lust Link is trying so hard to bear.

“You’re always so good for me. Keep going, fuck.” The slapping of skin on the other end of the line is undeniable now, as is the breathlessness in Rhett’s voice. “Gonna make you come. You’re gonna be a beautiful fucking mess when I’m done with you.”

“Rhett!” It comes out low and broken, the world’s most tormented siren song. In the back of his mind Link knows he'll regret how needy and desperate he’s letting himself be, and that future him will no doubt replay and overanalyze every single embarrassing thing he said, but that’s for tomorrow. Right now his slicked hand is moving up and down the whole length of his cock in slow, twisting, delicious strokes and the pleasure is erasing every filter he's ever had.

“I miss you so much. I wanna see you, I wanna do stuff to you for real so bad.” Rhett is babbling and Link can’t believe his ears. He can barely hold it together, squeezing his phone in one hand and his pulsating cock in the other like they are the only thing keeping him afloat in a storm.

“Maybe we should… get together? Just, you know, to really take care of things.” Link almost has time to congratulate himself on taking his time to choose his words deliberately, instead of screaming _Come over right now and put your hands on me, where they belong!_ into the phone like he wants to. There’s a low chuckle on the other end, and he knows he’s not fooling anyone.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah, you’re a slut for me, Neal. Wanna see me tomorrow?”

Tomorrow may not be right now, but it’s still better than Link had dared to hope for, so he hums an affirmative answer.

“Fuck yeah. We could go to the beach to surf. I love to see you in that fucking wetsuit, do you have any idea how amazing your body looks? Or we could just sunbathe.”

“You really wanna talk about surfing and sunbathing right now?” Link groans.

“Don’t try to act like you don’t want it outside, where we could get caught. I know you do, Neal, you’re kinky like that. And I love it.”

“Oh.” Rhett loves it. He loves something about Link? And yeah, Link has a short-lived thought about arguing with the assessment, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe it’s because it’s not entirely untrue, or maybe he just doesn’t care anymore. His hand is moving faster and harder now, as pressure builds inside him so sweetly. When he closes his eyes and focuses on the voice trickling over the phone like strawberry wine, he can imagine Rhett’s hands and his wicked smile, on a beach somewhere with no one else for miles.

“I wanna take you to the beach and tease you until you can’t take it. Touch you over your swimsuit, when nobody’s looking. I’d touch you until you’re beggin’ and squirmin’ and can’t hide that big dick bulging in your trunks no more. Just when you really can’t take any more, when you look at me with those big blue eyes sparkling like you might cry, I’d take mercy on you. I’d take you someplace quiet and get you off real good. I’d be so good to you, you’d thank me after, Neal.”

“Fuck. Yes. I want that. I need to come so bad.” The tension has Link’s body rigid and arched and his voice coming out in a desperate whine. A tidal wave is stirring inside him and unleashing it has become his single-minded goal. “I need you.”

“Say it then. Say you’re mine,” Rhett demands, and there is no way in hell Link could ever deny him.

“I’m yours. Rhett, I’m all yours. Shit, I’m gonna...” The levee breaks and leaves him gasping for air as his hot come flows over his fist and pools on his undulating stomach. Rhett is groaning, too, and the words that pushed them both over the edge may never stop playing in Link’s brain.

“Yeah, you are.”


	4. The One Where It Happens For The Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link had sometimes wondered if that time they spent pressed together in the narrow bunk was only a dream, or perhaps a fantasy. He had replayed every single second of it over and over again in his head, analyzing every word and movement, trying to decipher whether Rhett had been into it, or grossed out but too good of a friend to say so. 
> 
> He had also spent a significant amount of time thinking about what it would feel like to be touched by Rhett, not the usual pats on the shoulder or shaking hands for photos obviously, but really touched. On sleepless nights Link had wondered how Rhett’s touch would feel all over his bare skin, exploring under his clothes, reaching the places he longed the most to have touched. Until there was no need to wonder, Rhett’s hands were definitely on him. And it was definitely very deliberate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @secondhand_watermelon for blessing me with your beta reading and kindness.

Link had sometimes wondered if that time they spent pressed together in the narrow bunk was only a dream, or perhaps a fantasy. He had replayed every single second of it over and over again in his head, analyzing every word and movement, trying to decipher whether Rhett had been into it, or grossed out but too good of a friend to say so.

He had also spent a significant amount of time thinking about what it would feel like to be touched by Rhett, not the usual pats on the shoulder or shaking hands for photos obviously, but really _touched_. On sleepless nights Link had wondered how Rhett’s touch would feel all over his bare skin, exploring under his clothes, reaching the places he longed the most to have touched. Until there was no need to wonder, Rhett’s hands were definitely on him. And it was definitely very deliberate.

They had been on the road for a better part of a week after making the difficult decision to leave behind the town they grew up in, as well as their friends and families, and go chase their dream in Hollywood after a TV channel had picked up their pilot. After much deliberation curiosity had won out, as it tends to do, and they had stuffed most of their earthly possessions into a U-haul truck and jumped in without looking back. On the last night of their road trip they’d ended up in Barstow, a tiny town in the middle of the desert.

As night fell, they were sitting on their respective double beds in the cheapest room of a Budget Inn, staring blankly at nothingness, while chowing down their foil encrusted burrito dinners. Long days on the road and short nights in less than optimal lodgings had eroded their confidence, and they were exhausted — not just from the physical ordeal of packing and moving, but also from the toll that the stress and uncertainty were taking on them mentally.

Rhett was focused on not letting his fear show. He owed it to Link to be the strong one, since he’d been the one more passionately advocating for the upheaval of their lives. He knew Link was brave, a force of nature, but he was prone to fits of uncertainty and nerves. In those moments, he desperately needed to be reminded he was doing the right thing and everything would turn out okay.

Link had tossed the brown paisley patterned bedspread off his bed and washed his hands after touching it. Rhett had vaguely thought about kicking off his shoes but neglected to follow through. Instead, he’d focused on his burrito and was licking his fingers and tossing the balled-up foil into the trash can when Link was still barely halfway through his dinner. Rhett lay down on his bed and stared up at the yellowish stains on the ceiling, too tired to really think anything of them. Link had to clear his throat twice to get a reaction.

“Rhett?” Link asked gently, after he had managed to get the attention of his friend. “D’ya need to use the bathroom?” A beat of silence. “I’ll take a quick shower. I saw an IHOP a couple of blocks into the direction we came from. We could go there for breakfast, don’t ya think? I didn’t see what time they open though. I’d like to get an early start, I know we don’t have a long drive left, but I just think... it’s gotta be early though, right? Ya ever seen an IHOP not open early? So...yeah, I’ll go take a shower.”

Rhett loved IHOP. Under normal circumstances the promise of a breakfast combo in his future would lift his spirits without failure. He just couldn’t bring himself to be enthusiastic; there was something about the feeling of terror coiling in his stomach that dulled even the joy of bacon and pancakes. So he merely nodded at Link’s retreating back, closed his eyes and focused on the muffled, soothing sound of running water. After a while he felt Link nudging his knee, first lightly, then with a bit more force. He groaned at the intrusion.

“Umm hey, I don’t wanna wake ya, but you wanna brush your teeth and take your clothes off?”

Rhett struggled to open his eyes and for a second he was startled by the sight of Link with a bright glow of the bathroom halogens behind him, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and errant droplets of water on his skin. Rhett must have been staring slack-jawed for Link to feel the need to repeat himself.

“Do you wanna…” he started.

It was enough to shake Rhett. “Yeah, yeah,” he managed to get out before getting up from the bed and locking himself hastily into the still-steamy bathroom.

When he later emerged wearing only his boxer shorts and turned off the bathroom light, the room was dark, save for the glow of Link’s iPhone screen. The scratchy carpet felt unpleasant under his bare feet and no amount of air conditioning in the world seemed able to clear the stale air in the room. He looked at his best friend, snuggled in bed, looking as cozy as ever, with a faint smile ghosting over his lips and the light from his phone reflected on his glasses, and felt calmer than he had felt in days.

Rhett was home. In a cheap motel room, with stained ceilings and a lingering musty smell he’d rather not think about too much, he felt at ease and like there was no other place in the world he should be. As long as he was with Link, he was going to be alright, and he was going to be home. The thought grew and solidified in his mind, expanded until there was no more room for fear and trepidation, and left him with a strange sense of certainty. He thought of another thing he used to be afraid of, too, but that now felt like an absolute necessity.

He got on his hands and knees on Link’s bed and started to crawl towards him. Link looked up from his phone with a soft, surprised expression. Rhett reached the head of the bed and lolled on his side, close enough to almost-touch. It was exactly the sort of hovering that had become a trademark of the physical intimacy they shared: being constantly close but never crossing the line of plausible deniability.

“Hey, man.” Rhett spoke in a half-whisper. For some reason it didn’t feel right to use a normal speaking voice in the dark. “I was thinkin’.” The other man didn’t seize the offered pause, so he had no choice but to go on. “You know how having orgasms produces serotonin and reduces cortisol levels, right? Like, that’s just science, man. They make you happier, calmer and sleepier. And I dunno about you, but I’ve been wound up as all heck lately, with the move and the TV show and everythin’. And I started to think that maybe it would help to have more orgasms, ya know?” He figured a mildly confused nod was about as good an answer he could get from Link, so he continued. “And I remembered that time in college.”

Rhett had gotten this far fairly unruffled, but bringing up The Time That Had Gone Unmentioned For Over A Decade threatened to put an end to his determination. A searing heat flushed over his skin and he was sure his cheeks had to shine like a flare in the dark.

“That time,” Rhett paused to cough, “it really helped me, ya know? So I thought. Um, I thought, maybe that would be something we could do? Just to like let off steam sometimes?”

“I know what you mean,” Link croaked. And he did, sort of. If there was ever a question in his mind about how exactly the undeniable and scientific benefits of having orgasms led Rhett to the conclusion that they should have them _together_ , he wasn’t going to utter it.

“Yeah, so.” Rhett scrambled to get his bearings again. There really was no way around it; he just had to ask. He had to force the words out of his mouth. “Do you think it might be better if we did it to each other? Like, I dunno, maybe your brain’ll think it’s different, somehow, than doing it to yourself? Maybe it’ll be more effective that way.”

“Are ya saying we —” Link was trying to figure out whether this was something that was actually happening, or just a sequel to the dream-fantasy-whatever that last time was. “That we should jerk each other off?” He grimaced at how harsh his expression of choice sounded.

“I was just suggesting maybe — I mean, yeah. If that’s fine. It doesn’t hafta be weird or nothin’.”

Link wanted to scream _What the heck does that even mean, it doesn’t have to be weird?_ At the same time a part of him could not resist the idea. He wanted it, even if it was weird. He needed to experience it again.

“Okay,” Link said.

“Really?”

“Whaddaya mean, _really?_ Were you not even serious?” Link’s voice was high-pitched and definitely nowhere near a whisper anymore.

“I was! Calm down, man.”

“I am calm!” He really wasn’t, but Rhett knew better than to call him out on that.

“Good. Then maybe, if you wanted to, like right now.” Rhett wondered what the etiquette was for asking your best friend to get naked so you could touch his junk. Surely there had to be a way that wasn’t this complicated. “Um, can I touch you?”

“Okay.” Link set his phone down on the bedside table. It was almost pitch black in the room, with just enough light visible around the edges of the curtains that Rhett could make out Link pushing the covers aside, before shimmying out of his shorts and tossing them on the floor.

“Okay,” Rhett replied and licked his lips, more as a result of nerves than arousal. He reached his hand out into the darkness, towards the direction of Link’s lap, and was almost startled to grasp a handful of half-hard cock. Link seemed even more alarmed as he pulled away. For a few seconds they both sat still and wondered if this was the most colossal mistake of their lives.

“Oh, um, I probably got some lotion in my bag,” Link finally offered.

“Yeah, get it,” Rhett replied, voice lower. He was running his hands nervously up and down his thighs, hoping Link wouldn’t notice how clearly out of his depth he was.

Link got out of bed to raid the contents of his toiletry bag. He came back to bed with a little tube of Nivea and handed it to Rhett, who took the tube that was offered to him and opened it to squeeze a dollop on his palm. He extended his hand towards Link again, who inhaled with a hiss as the lotion was spread on his shaft with movements mimicking confidence.

Rhett let his hand wander up and down his best friend’s cock, down over his testicles, cupping around them like he was weighing them in his hand, and then back up the long shaft again. When he reached the glans, he swiveled his hand over it a few times, causing Link to groan out loud. Rhett moved to grip his fingers around Link’s length and swirled his thumb over the slit of his cock to spread a bead of precum around.

“Oh, shoot,” Link sounded agonized. “Can I — should I be touching you?”

“Go ahead.”

Link gently cupped his shaky hand over the bulge in Rhett’s shorts. It was getting increasingly difficult for him to focus on anything except the downright blissful thing Rhett’s hand was doing to him right now, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to do his share.

The way Rhett’s huge, strong hand touched him was sending fragments of his consciousness flying away with every stroke. He decided to use the last remnants of his sanity to reach into Rhett’s shorts and wrap his hand around his cock.

Holding the thick, pulsating member in his hands, fingers just reaching around it, filled Link’s mind with images of trying to take it in his mouth. That’s what people did, right? Maybe that’s what Rhett would want. Maybe that’s what Link himself wanted? If he did, would that be gay? Before he knew it, a deluge of anxiety was rolling over him, and he needed to stop right then and there. He pulled his hand away like it had been scorched and opened his mouth, but only shallow gasps came out.

“Yeah, just relax,” Rhett said with that voice, that voice that was going to end Link, as he pushed himself up on his knees and threw his leg over Link to straddle his thighs. He ran his hands from Link’s hips up to his chest and then down to his thighs. “You okay?”

Link closed his eyes, exhaled and pictured Rhett looking at him in the dark. He thought of the solemn expression his best friend wore whenever he protected and looked after Link. The more he thought about it, the more he knew Rhett was never going to let anything bad happen, that anything that happened tonight would be just another facet in the all-encompassing nature of their friendship. It would be just another experience they shared, and their bond would be that much tighter.

Just like that, he was pretty sure he was okay, maybe more okay than he’d ever been. He didn’t know how to say it, so he nodded and hoped the other man could see.

Rhett left one hand on Link’s chest, rubbing over his nipple lazily, while his other hand moved back to stroke his dick. Both of Link’s hands were by his sides, gripping the sheets in his fists, his hips and stomach rippling under the touch. Rhett kept pumping his cock with a firm, steady hand. Link thought he might have heard grunting, but he was too busy falling apart to pay close attention. A constant stream of whimpers and moans ran unobstructed from his wide open mouth, filling the room with a sea of rapture Rhett was quickly drowning in.

“That’s it. Come on,” Rhett husked. His cock was aching, and fantasies of spilling his cum over Link’s trembling body had overtaken his mind. He spat on his hand and started to jack off with urgency.

The rhythm of his hand on Link’s dick must have faltered, because Link’s eyes shot open and he caught sight of Rhett working his own cock and Link's simultaneously.

“Hey!” Link sounded angry and he scrambled to sit up underneath his friend. Rhett lifted his hands in surrender, but before he could speak, he was pushed on his back and his cock was enveloped in Link’s hot mouth.

“Link, w-what?” he stuttered, but the only response was the wet, sloppy music of Link’s saliva-slick mouth stretching around his cock and taking half of him in with one hurried dive.

“Link?” It felt amazing, if unexpected. Rhett’s cock slipped out of Link’s mouth with a wet plop.

“We said we were gonna do each other. This okay?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Link wrapped his mouth around Rhett again. Rhett’s body went limp and he let out a warbled moan.

Rhett frantically reached for the heavily-bobbing member under the body kneeling on his side. Link’s mouth jolted on his cock, when he found it and wrapped his hand around it, taking a little more of it in with every dive down. His movements were clumsy but eager, and Rhett was lost in the pleasure. He was tugging on Link’s dick blindly and desperately, the moans reverberating around his own shaft letting him know he was doing something right. Link pulled off for breath and moaned again.

Rhett squeezed his eyes shut so tight that he could see colors swirling inside of his eyelids as he felt his best friend’s mouth sinking over him once again. He could barely feel the bed under him anymore; it was like the room around him had disappeared and he was soaring to dizzying heights. With Link panting and drooling around his cock, his body rose into the stratosphere; the air was compressed out of his lungs and he was left gasping for shallow breaths of air.

While Rhett’s mind had been preoccupied with trying to catch a breath and not pass out, somewhere in the base of his spine a small fire had been lit. By the time he became aware of it, it had become a raging bonfire he had no chance of containing. Everything was scorching hot: his body, the room, Link’s mouth. He was going to erupt.

“Stop. Shit, you gotta. Stop.” Rhett tried frantically to form words between gasps and moans, but to no avail. He came hard, like a flash of electricity running through his body, pulling it taut and radiating tingling pleasure to all his extremities. Link froze. He pulled away gagging from Rhett’s cock, mouth open, cum leaking out of it on Rhett.

The afterglow of satisfaction evaporated all too quickly, and regret hit Rhett hard. But before he could string together words to sufficiently apologize, Link’s body spasmed and he let out a drawn-out, low groan as he came. After that the only sound in the darkness was the heavy breathing of two men coming down from their orgasms.

They didn’t speak when Link got up to rinse his mouth in the bathroom. Or when he returned and found Rhett had changed beds. No goodnights were exchanged when they both rolled over and drifted to sleep.

The next morning they had a pancake breakfast. The sun shone brightly as Rhett joked and Link laughed, and the last day of their road trip was much more cheerful than the previous ones.


	5. The One Where They Slip Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wanna come over?” Rhett’s hand hovers on the handle. They had already exchanged their see yous and he had turned to leave, but instead of opening the door of the Uber they had decided to share, he turns back to look at Link one last time. His eyes sparkle with inebriation and the promise of a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, @secondhand_watermelon took the time to make sense of nonsense and I am most grateful.

“You wanna come over?” Rhett’s hand hovers on the handle. They had already exchanged their see yous and he had turned to leave, but instead of opening the door of the Uber they had decided to share, he turns back to look at Link one last time. His eyes sparkle with inebriation and the promise of a good time. “I’ve got beer and we could… listen to some music?”

It’s been a while since they last indulged and Link is starting to feel eager to embarrass himself again, to give into the hunger that’s been chipping away at him for weeks. He needs Rhett to take him apart and do all the things that leave him breathless once more, to quiet the rambling inside his head.

It’s a no-brainer, really, and soon they stagger through the front door of Rhett’s house, bumping into each other and giggling. Rhett tosses his jacket onto a chair and makes his way into the kitchen. He turns on the overhead lights, making Link recoil at the harsh glare, too sobering and unnecessary for what he has in mind.

“I’ve got IPAs and maybe — hey!” Rhett turns back to face Link, who has switched the lights off again, his figure leaning in the doorway, hidden in the dark.

“Not thirsty,” he says, walking towards Rhett. As he approaches, the streetlights shining through the window steep him in a soft, golden hue. A soft smile dances on his face as his gaze sweeps between Rhett’s eyes and lips.

“Sure seems like you’re thirsty for something.”

“I’ve missed this.” Just this once, Link is going to be honest, free of all self-preservation. He’ll regret it tomorrow — he always does when he grossly oversteps a boundary drawn between them — but that’s distant in the future. And Rhett, with his dark eyes and freshly licked lips, is awfully near.

He leans against the kitchen island, feigning confidence, and remembers the time Rhett last called him drunk. They had one of the conversations they always do, and it ended the way it always does: both of them breathless and messy with their own cum. Link texted him the following morning about hanging out, maybe going to the beach, reminding Rhett of the promises made in the heat of the moment and waited. He had stared at his empty smoothie bowl and the phone in front of him for a while, when the reply came: “I’m too hungover, man, see you at work”. Link thought about pursuing the conversation further, but instead he put his phone down, cleaned inside the shower drain and then inside all the garbage cans in the house, went for a long walk, and binge-watched Netflix until he fell asleep on the couch, trying to bury the feelings of shame and regret that threatened to consume him.

When they saw each other at the office, neither brought it up, and the day went just as all Mondays before it, the course of their day effortlessly aligning itself to its usual pattern. Link forced himself to forget… until the next time.

Tonight.

Rhett takes a step closer. There’s a dangerous fire in his eyes. “Me too. C’mere,” he whispers coarsely and steps to stand between Link’s parted feet and tenderly skim his hand up Link’s bicep. Link remains still, caught in the memory, so Rhett leans in and presses his thick thigh against Link’s crotch. They stand frozen, breaths heavy and alcohol-infused, tentative explorers of a very familiar land.

Rhett’s hand, more steady and secure than it has any right to be, brushes along Link’s jawline and reaches behind his neck to pull him in. Link easily allows himself to be lead, he has been a broken, starved man for weeks. He shivers under the touch and grinds his growing erection on Rhett’s thigh. He wraps around Rhett, hands finding their way under clothes, fingers playing across muscles. The heat of Rhett’s skin on his feels searing and he wants more.

“That’s right, let me make you feel good, bo,” Rhett murmurs, his hands everywhere at once, making Link lust-drunk and more than willing to throw himself at Rhett, _into_ Rhett.

After the last time, Link had decided to end this thing they had going. It had started to feel like playing with fire, if fire was a nuclear bomb with the ability to decimate their friendship, company and careers. Oh, how quickly a mind can be unmade. The blissful friction of the thigh between his legs quickly rubs away Link’s resolve. It’s been too long, the foolish lust is too much and who knows, maybe this is the last time, he thinks. He should make the most of it.

He writhes and moans obscenely, egging Rhett on, daring him to tangle his fingers in Link’s hair, explore under his shirt, entwine fully with him. He is intoxicated by how intense everything about his best friend is. Rhett’s size and strength could easily overpower and his every touch is ferocious; the heat of his passion threatens to singe every nerve ending under Link’s skin.

“So sweet and eager.” Rhett’s whisper is thin like silk and Link can feel the words vibrating through them both more than he can hear them.

Rhett’s fingertips digging clawlike into his hips and the edge of the countertop poking him in the back provide just the right kind of entrancing pain he needs to juxtapose the raw pleasure that threatens to push him over the edge too soon. The feeling of Rhett everywhere — hard cock pressing onto Link’s stomach, arms enclosing him fully, groans and gasps filling what little air there is between them — keeps driving Link further into a horny stupor.

A lot has been said and done in the heat of the moment over the years. Many things have happened that could be and had been chalked up to momentary lapses of judgement. A kiss could be one of those things, but it isn’t, not a kiss like this. You don’t accidentally kiss your best friend of over thirty years like you’re in danger of drifting away and he is the only thing grounding you to earth.

Their bodies are so impossibly tangled together, it was inevitable for their faces to meet and their lips click into place. The energy inside them had nowhere else to go. The kiss reeks of desperation, wasted time and denied possibilities. It’s sickly sweet like an overripe fruit, almost on the verge of rotten.

Link is past the point of pacing himself, running blind in the dark, chasing for more. He rocks his hips onto Rhett’s thigh, harder and more insistent each time. His whole body is taut and tense, back arched, hands desperately grasping to get a good hold on skin, cloth, anything. Rhett moans into his mouth and slides a hand to cup his ass, to squeeze, to pull in tighter. Link bucks back and latches onto Rhett’s bottom lip, drinking in the taste of him, debauched by the low grunts against his ear.

Even though he has been dangerously close to the edge ever since their bodies first collided, the trembling wave of release still takes Link by surprise and nearly topples him over. His ears are ringing, he is struggling to breathe and his whole body convulses in time with his pulsating cock as he holds onto Rhett and rides out his ecstasy.

As Link becomes aware of the moist and rapidly cooling insides of his trunks, the haze lifts quickly and he pulls back. Ideally he would like to turn around and walk right out of the door, but Rhett is still pinning him against the counter, so he settles on turning his face away.

Rhett tries to catch his eyes, but he manages to look away until Rhett slides his fingers under his chin and gently turns his face to gaze back up at the giant of a man. They stare at each other, words clinging to their tongues, too stubborn to come out.

“Hey,” Rhett starts. Link stares at him and waits but it doesn’t seem like Rhett has anywhere to go with the sentence. As he shifts, his cock juts into Link’s stomach.

“Um, yeah, sorry. Let me…“ Link starts to fumble at Rhett’s fly, but Rhett catches his hands and pulls them away.

“You don’t have to.” Rhett’s hands almost fully envelop Link’s and he keeps holding on, hands strong and still, steadying the tremors in Link’s hands. “You wanna talk?”

“About what? And it’s cool, I can help you out.”

“I don’t need that right now. But maybe we should talk about… everything. All of this. You know?” He is still holding on and his voice is quiet, slowly suspending words into hesitant sentences. He sounds like he’s thinking of the kindest way to let someone down, and Link needs him to know he doesn’t have to, that it’s not a necessary conversation for them to ever have.

“What’s there to talk about?” Link asks, hoping to not get an answer. And for once, Rhett is speechless for long enough, lets his grip loosen just enough, for Link to dodge. “Look, if you don’t want anything, maybe I should go home. It’s late and I’m kinda tired.”

“You can sleep here.” Rhett sounds fatigued, like he’s probably as eager as Link for the night to be over.

“Naw, man, I should go.” Link is already on his way out of the kitchen with no intention of stopping.

“Link.” Rhett’s voice is loaded with questions Link isn’t in the mood to answer, so he doesn’t turn around.

“See you Monday, yeah?”

Link is out of the kitchen and out of the house. He doesn’t know if Rhett called after him, but is sure any thoughts his best friend may feel like sharing right now — thanks to his newfound dedication to therapy and becoming so in touch with his fucking emotions — will be forgotten by Monday. The night air is cool and he debates calling an Uber, but figures the walk isn’t long. Maybe it will sober him up a little, lessening the physical pain of the impending morning after, if not the emotional.


	6. The One Where They Explore Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it’s not so much a conversation as it is two people standing in their respective dugouts, more focused on hurling snappy remarks at each other than finding common ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by @secondhand_watermelon, overall fantastic person and friend.

“That’s not the point, though, and I don’t think you’re listening…” Link is standing in the middle of the room, his voice and his animated gesturing betraying exactly how thin his patience is starting to wear as a result of this conversation.

“But you don’t actually like it. I don’t know why you’re pretending to be okay with it all of a sudden, or acting like you don’t care, when I know you do. At least you damn well should. It doesn’t even make any sense to leave it like that. Why can’t you just _admit_ you’re unhappy?” Rhett counters, and maybe it’s not so much a conversation as it is two people standing in their respective dugouts, more focused on hurling snappy remarks at each other than finding common ground.

“Dammit, I was trying to explain when you interrupted me!” Link snarls venomously.

“C’mon, then, explain.” Rhett snaps.

“Say please and promise not to interrupt again?” Link has to know that treacherous, lopsided smirk drives Rhett wild. Why else would he stand there with that cocky expression?

“Fuck, man,” Rhett huffs in indignation. “You realize how annoying you’re being right now?”

“Oh, I’m annoying? Suck my dick, man.”

They stare at each other. It was a very unlike-Link thing to say. Rhett is frankly a little shocked. Something about the way Link said it, though, and something about the way he looks right now — standing tall and straight, chin jutting out, hair wild from running his hands through it moments before — Rhett is a little aroused, too.

“What?” Rhett’s voice is dangerously calm all of a sudden, but Link doesn’t notice. He doesn’t see the warning signs and continues taunting his friend.

“You heard me. Suck my dick.”

Rhett steps close enough for their chests to almost touch. Link is puffing his out like a posturing rooster. His confidence doesn’t protect him from the fact that Rhett is still stronger and it doesn’t take a lot of force from him to push Link back enough that his calves hit the black couch — the one they thought looked cool but Rhett now thinks probably looks like a piece of inflatable furniture from a 90s frat house. Link tumbles down on the couch and Rhett leans closer, placing one hand on the back of the couch and using the other to pop Link’s buttons open one by one. He holds onto Link’s gaze with a stern expression. With every opened button, Link’s earlier cockiness dissolves a little more and is replaced by incredulity.

They haven’t done this since… Well, since _that_ night, when they were drunk, things got out of hand and they accidentally kissed. They haven’t discussed it either. Rhett wanted to, he was going to, he just couldn’t find the words to get started. Weeks went by, and then months, and in the end he just assumed they were done with… _whatever this arrangement of theirs was_. He was absolutely certain he had fucked things up beyond repair with one little thoughtless slip-up, and any attempt to clear things up would only be detrimental to their friendship.

With Link’s fly fully open, Rhett still hesitates reaching in. He kneels down, his hand hovering suspended right above his best friend’s crotch, and he cocks an eyebrow inquisitively, hoping for some kind of a reaction. Link does not move or speak, so after a mental coin toss, Rhett reaches in to touch him over his underwear.

Rhett wonders if he could be colossally misreading the situation, but Link’s body is a magnet that’s been pulling him in, messing with his sense of direction, making him spin around in circles aimlessly around his best friend. He is ready to stop resisting, and his palm finds Link’s cock that hardens and twitches in his grasp as he pulls it out. He leans in slowly, maintaining eye contact and basking in the sight of Link’s mouth falling open and his pupils widening. When his lips finally make contact, Link lets out a long breath as the tension in his body drips away. Rhett continues to bring his mouth down at a glacial speed.

“C’mon, man,” Link mutters. “Fuck, just... Just do it.”

Rhett pulls his mouth back up, not caring to speed things up in the least. He gathers saliva in his mouth and lets a big glob of it drip down Link’s cock and run over his balls. Some of it drips down onto the couch.

“Eugh, why you gotta be so sloppy about it?” Rhett doesn’t respond but takes Link back into his mouth.

“Watch the teeth, man. And seriously, can you go a bit faster?” Link rests his hand on Rhett’s head and starts to push it down. Rhett pushes his hand off, lets Link’s cock fall out of his mouth and gets up on his feet again.

“Dude?” Link huffs out.

There have been plenty of times things between them have escalated beyond the quick, friendly jerk off their arrangement was originally intended for, but Rhett wants to push the boundaries even further. He leans down and grabs the hem of Link’s t-shirt with both hands and pulls on it. Link lifts his arms to allow him to take it off, but once the shirt is over his head, his arms still in the sleeves, Rhett twists the shirt around itself a couple of times and pushes Link’s hands through the neck hole, wrapping his wrists in a tight bundle. It’s a symbolic gesture, really, they both know the shirt isn’t wrapped so tight Link couldn’t pull his hands out if he wanted to, but Rhett is willing to bet he won’t.

“Now shut the fuck up,” Rhett says gruffly and sinks back onto his knees. He grabs Link by the hips and pulls him forward, so that his ass is barely on the couch and he is half lying down, Rhett between his legs.

He grabs Link’s spit-slick cock firmly and starts to swirl his hand teasingly slowly right under the glans, then pumping up and down the shaft. Link lets out little puffs of breath and the occasional muffled grunt. His bundled hands are resting on his chest, and his fists tighten in time with Rhett’s strokes.

“You can moan, if you want. I just don’t wanna hear another word out of your mouth,” Rhett says, continuing to toy gently with Link’s cock. Link’s only response is a breathy whine.

“Put your hands above your head.” Link obeys and Rhett continues: “Now you’re gonna sit there, real still and pretty, and not say a word until I’m done with you. Nod if that’s fine.”

Link nods, finally putting Rhett’s mind at ease, so he dribbles another glob of saliva along the length of his shaft and on his balls, maintaining unwavering eye contact to make sure the other man doesn’t forget he is in charge even on his knees. He starts to pump Link’s cock and Link soon responds by moaning rhythmically and pushing his hips up to meet Rhett’s fist.

As Link’s eyes start to roll back in his head, Rhett releases him and stands up again. He reaches down to grab Link by the hair and pulls him to sit up straight, not releasing his grip as he tugs down his own joggers and underwear with his other hand, gives himself a couple of firm tugs to make himself harder, and presses his cock against Link’s cheek. He watches the look on Link’s face shift from startled to downright gleeful, before his eyes slip shut, and his plump, shiny lips rub on the side of Rhett’s shaft. Rhett guides the tip of his cock towards the center of the perfect, blush pink lips that eagerly grant him entrance. It’s hell, but a hell he has coveted.

“You look so good with my cock in you, babe,” Rhett breathes out, still holding on to Link’s hair, not really pulling on it, just firmly grasping. Link’s shirt-bound wrists are still resting behind his head. Rhett slides his cock in and out of Link’s soft, wet mouth, careful to not go too deep and make him gag. As he picks up his pace slightly, Link starts to match his thrusts, as far as the fist still clenching his hair will allow him to go.

Rhett lets go of Link’s hair and pushes him back down on the couch. Link is striking with his hair a wild mess and lips plump and shiny with saliva. He still obediently holds his hands above his head on the back of the couch, and his body, stretched out before Rhett like the most exquisite buffet of delicacies, makes Rhett want to fall to his knees to worship every inch of the tan skin pulled over firm muscle. Not just yet, he thinks; there are other matters to tend to first.

“You should see yourself right now,” he begins, speaking slowly and with a low voice, like he’s at the starting point of a journey when he’s not sure of the destination. Link’s eyes are glazed over and he is starting to squirm, like he has all this pent-up energy and no idea how to direct any of it.

“You look wrecked,” Rhett continues on, a little more sure of himself. “You’re loving this, aren’t ya? You want my hands on you?”

Link opens his mouth to speak, but then catches himself, remembering he isn’t really supposed to. So he hums affirmatively, before sitting up and mouthing at Rhett’s cock, bobbing heavy between his legs.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho no.” Rhett’s cock jiggles as he laughs and shoves Link back down, a bit more roughly now than the last time. “Control yourself.” They stare at each other in silence as Rhett tugs tentatively on his slick cock and gathers the courage to take another step.

“Are you that big of a slut for me?” he asks softly, stroking himself more urgently and cocking an eyebrow at Link. The only response he gets is Link biting down on his bottom lip, and Rhett wishes he hadn’t told him not to speak, or that Link wouldn’t be so obedient. For fuck’s sake, the man was a brat who lived for trying his luck; did he have to pick this moment to start following instructions?

“Yeah, you are. Love being used like this, desperate for my cock, dripping all over yourself. You been thinkin’ about this?” Link’s nod is so tiny — blink and you might miss it, really — but Rhett doesn’t miss it. He savors every single bit of this: Link’s lips parted and chest heaving, the telltale blush reaching from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, and his gorgeous, throbbing, twitching cock leaking all over his stomach.

“Can’t wait to make you cum.” It feels different to say things like that when they’re face-to-face and he can’t hide from those piercing blue eyes. He doesn’t even have the cloak of alcohol he usually hides behind to say what he really means. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Beautiful.” The last word escapes him before he even realises it. He hopes Link failed to notice, heat of the moment and all, but the way his friend's eyes flutter closed and the blush on his cheeks deepens tell Rhett he has no such luck. The heat building up inside him is threatening to take him over and steer him right into danger.

“You wanna be a slut, how ‘bout I treat you like one, huh? How ‘bout I paint you with my cum? You ready for that?” He’s getting so close and the sight of Link shuddering underneath him, bucking his hips into the air, is unbearable.

“Fuck, Link!” Rhett warbles as thick ropes of his cum splatter on Link’s chest and white-hot pleasure flashes throughout his body. A realization blooms somewhere in the back of his mind, that they may be on borrowed time, and he may never get the chance to do this again. Better go out with a bang.

He sinks down on his knees and takes Link into his mouth again. He’s done with teasing, instead giving it all he’s got, slobbering over Link and down his own beard. Link’s dick bumps against the back of his throat as Rhett’s nose pushes towards the black, neatly-trimmed hair framing it. He chokes and has to pull up, but after taking a quick breath sucks the hard length into his mouth again. And again. Link keeps his eyes glued to the pornographic sight in front of him, his soft moans soon turning into strangled cries. When his cockhead is pressing into Rhett’s throat and Rhett moans around him, voice thick and choked, Link’s body becomes a livewire, sending jolts of electricity through him. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before and it won’t stop. He convulses as his cock keeps pumping out spurt after spurt of cum into Rhett’s eager mouth.

When it finally ends, and Link becomes aware of his surroundings again, he pulls out quickly, thoroughly depleted. He unwraps his arms out of the shirt bundle easily and lays them on his lap, staring blankly in front of him, trying to catch his breath.

“Was that okay?” Rhett asks, as he extends a hand to gently nudge Link’s arm. Link grins, but quickly turns to face away, flushed pink. And God, he’s gorgeous, brilliant as the sunrise always, even when he is small and scared inside, and Rhett wants so much more. He wants to take Link’s hand and jump.

“Um, yeah. It was really good,” is the only reply Rhett gets, before Link is up, gathering his clothes and skulking off to the bathroom to clean himself up. Rhett knows not to push it. If this is all he can get, he’ll just have to find a way to make it work, to steal enough hurried, heated touches to carry him through all the times he has to sit next to the man who burns so bright and swallow the urge to sink into him and be devoured by the heat.


	7. The One Where They Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opening the door to a generic hotel room after a performance or a guest appearance has taken on a very specific meaning for Link. The response is practically pavlovian, his heart starting to race at the images that now fill his head at the sight of a hotel room, images of Rhett fucking into his mouth on the fresh, wide bed or into his hand in a spacious shower stall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @secondhand_watermelon, what can I say?
> 
> I had no idea what I was doing, when I decided I wanted to write a thing, and then maybe even show other people that thing. There's no way I could have even finished without your help, support and kindness, let alone with an end result I'm honestly a little proud of. Thank you for being a friend. <3
> 
> Also big thanks to everyone who left kind comments along the way, you have made the "showing other people that thing" part so much more enjoyable and rewarding. I hope this is the talk ya'll have been waiting for.

Opening the door to a generic hotel room after a performance or a guest appearance has taken on a very specific meaning for Link. The response is practically pavlovian, his heart starting to race at the images that now fill his head at the sight of a hotel room, images of Rhett fucking into his mouth on the fresh, wide bed or into his hand in a spacious shower stall.

These days someone who works for them books the rooms, so they get two, and it would raise too many questions and eyebrows to suggest they share a room like they used to. They have crew and assistants traveling with them too, staying in adjacent rooms, remaining ever present at meals and in dressing rooms, always watching and listening. They really should be on their best behavior. But without fail, at the end of the day they find themselves lingering in a hallway by their respective doors, giving each other suggestive glances with nervous sentences trailing off midway in anticipation of one of them giving in.

This time it’s Rhett. Link admires his courage to dependably take the lead, even though he knows his eagerness to follow is just as predictable.

“I should take a shower,” Rhett declares, after a minute or two of the game of definitely-not-gay-chicken they’ve found themselves playing again. “I probably stink. But after that, do you wanna..?”

“Um, yeah.” Link scrapes the depths of his mind for a plausible excuse to hang out after a long day, on top of a whole week spent mostly together, and at a time way past their usual bedtimes. “We could…”

“Yeah, come over when you’re done.” Rhett interrupts, demonstrating no patience for any rambling fabrications at this hour, and Link grants him a flash of a crooked smile as a token of his gratitude.

Moments later Link is standing in the shower, already feeling his dick twitch in anticipation, as the hot water engulfs him. He trails a lazy hand around his nipple and down his stomach, gently but thoroughly lathering himself _right there_ , the soft thrum of his heartbeat under the skin occupying his entire awareness. He slips soapy fingers between his cheeks and tentatively breaches the tight muscle hidden in the crevice. It’s not that he wants Rhett to touch him there, but if that were to happen, he’d rather be ready. He’s touched himself there a few times; it’s a little weird, but intriguing. Rhett almost definitely doesn’t want stuff like that, but Link could see himself not minding, if it did come up sometime. He was already eager before his tentative explorations, and slowly sinking first one finger and then two inside the snug opening starts to seem like something he could get lost in, if he wanted to. Instead he rinses off, squeegees his body with his hands first and then rubs himself down with a fluffy, white towel.

When he knocks on Rhett’s door ten minutes later, he is wearing joggers and an old t-shirt with a pterodactyl print that had worn soft and comfy over the years, but he has taken the time to style his hair with a bit of pomade, poofing up the top part just how he likes it. Rhett opens the door wearing only a towel, little droplets of water still dripping from his hair down his chest and making his tanned skin look juicy and ripe for the picking. The mere sight of him has Link immediately parched, struggling to open his dry mouth and think of something to say. Rhett cocks an eyebrow and grins when he backs just enough into the room to let Link step in.

As soon as Link is inside and the door behind him closed, Rhett crowds him against it. Link’s eyes flutter closed as Rhett moves against him, hands roaming and groping. Link may have whispered his name, or maybe just moaned, he can’t be sure. All he knows is Rhett crushing into him like a tidal wave and his body bending and melting with the pressure.

Rhett wastes no time in pulling Link’s shirt over his head and Link’s arms move up to assist him, like choreographed movements in a dance familiar to both. Once his shirt has been removed, Link catches sight of the delirious grin blooming on his face in the mirror across the room.

Rhett licks a hot trail from Link’s collarbone up to his earlobe and Link is positive it’s the most sensual touch he has ever received. He wishes Rhett would kiss him again, that that wouldn’t be too outlandish for them. Instead, Rhett grinds against him, causing his towel to slide down and hit the floor. He is hard, and beautiful. Seeing him naked never fails to captivate Link, even after all these years. If anything, he’s gotten better with age, Link thinks; he's now broader and firmer - a mountain of a man - instead of the gangly boy Link first desired.

“Damn, you look...” Link whimpers. He wants to wrap his hands around that delicious cock, wants to pull Rhett with him to bed, wants Rhett to have his way with him.

“Yeah, baby? You want this?” The term of endearment is pleasure mixed with pain, but Link embraces it, accepting that the twinges of longing and deprivation are just a reminder that he's alive.

“Rhett,” Link whispers.

“I’m gonna treat you real fucking nice, bo,” Rhett continues, and Link wants nothing more than to spread himself open for Rhett to take, not just to fuck but to make love to. “Gonna make you moan my name.”

“Rhett, we should stop,” Link manages between gasps.

“Why, you think Jenna can hear us next door? She can’t, I promise.” Rhett’s hand slides down Link’s body, stopping at the front of his sweatpants.

“No, I think we should stop doing _this_ , whatever this is.” The words are out of Link, floating in the air between them, before he was sure of wanting to say them. “I mean, it’s about time we end it, right? Like, it’s probably not healthy?” He’s second-guessing himself, but powering through nonetheless.

“Why?” Rhett untangles himself from Link’s body and shifts back, leaving just his toes in contact with Link’s left shoe, like he needs this little bit of Link to hold onto still. “What do you even mean, not healthy? How? Did you not like it? ‘Cause I wish you’d told me sooner if you didn’t like it.”

“I… I liked it. But it’s been so — I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Like why are we even doing it?” It’s too difficult to look at Rhett, so he doesn’t.

“To help each other, to make each other feel good!”

“Help with what? I don’t remember _why_ we’re really doing it. And like, why we’re doing it with each other. Why couldn’t it be with whomever? Or, I don’t mean whoever, I just think… We don’t, if we don’t really need it… There’s a time and place for everything, and I’m starting to think the time for this has passed. It’s probably for the best that we end it, so it doesn’t get — so that we don’t start to resent each other, or that we — I mean, it doesn't need to get any more complicated, right?”

“But you said you were mine,” Rhett counters, and Link’s stomach drops.

“Oh, so you do remember that,” he snarls, all the disappointment, anger and resentment he has felt escaping him at last in a single reply. Rhett looks meek, suddenly tiny in his large frame. As his arms fall to his sides and he takes a step back, the space between them unfurls into an expanse of cold air, and Link has to strain to hear him speak.

“Link, please don’t,” Rhett says, eyes fixed on the floor, arranging his hands to cover his crotch as if suddenly remembering his nudity. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“I don’t know, Link, _everything_.”

“I was scared too. I’ve been scared for a long time.” Link sucks on his tongue, arranging and rearranging his words inside his mouth. In the end they just ripple out, artless and sincere. “But I’m done fighting it. I’m done with games. I am yours, always have been. You know? And if you wanted me, really wanted me… But I can’t do _this_. I know you said we’re helping each other, but it’s — maybe it was fine at first? I can’t remember. I really haven’t been okay with it for a long time, it’s been too… I can’t do it anymore.”

Link starts to turn away, but for once Rhett is ready, threading his fingers with Link’s and clasping his hand tightly.

“Wait. I wanna say something.”

“You don’t have to…” Link shakes his head. Maybe if he squeezes his eyes shut tight enough, he won’t cry. At least not until he’s back in his room.

“I am too, you know.” Rhett leans down to ghost the tip of his nose down Link’s face.

“What?” Link feels frozen in place, too dumbfounded and overwhelmed to follow.

“Yours.” Rhett says quietly but confidently, like he’s so sure of himself all of a sudden and it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. “No games, no helping out. All I want is you.”

“What the crap, why didn’t you… You never said anything,” Link gasps.

“It took me a long time to realize it,” Rhett murmurs into Link’s hair. “Or admit to myself, or whatever. And I wasn’t sure — I didn’t know if you felt the same. Sometimes I thought you did, and I wanted to tell you... I was gonna tell you. But it’s not like you said anything either.”

“I could’ve _never_ imagined… Oh, Rhett!” Link sighs as he rushes to meet Rhett’s mouth with his.

It’s as devastating now as it was the first time they kissed. The first kiss was heavy with desire and denial, and it felt like the first and last of its kind. This time Link kisses his lifelong best friend with the promise to keep doing again and again for as long as he’ll have permission. He roams the familiar and strange with his tongue and makes his mark with his teeth.

“I don’t understand. I’ve wanted this for so long, but you never seemed…” Link murmurs as breaks away from the kiss and makes his way to the pristine, white bed.

“I was an idiot,” Rhett replies, following the other man to the bed obediently. Link has never felt so powerful, so in control, as he does now with a giant wrapped around his finger.

“You were,” Link hums as he grabs Rhett to pull him in again with certain, unshaking hands. They fall onto the bed, Rhett trying to brace himself on his arms and knees to keep from crushing the body underneath him.

“Forgive me?” Rhett asks with a smile so smug Link knows he is correctly predicting the answer.

“I might.” Link pulls Rhett close, face buried in his neck, mindlessly kissing at every inch of skin his lips can reach. He has never been one to hold a grudge.

“To be fair,” Rhett murmurs into Link’s ear, “you haven’t exactly been open about your feelings either.” He licks his thumb and circles it around Link’s nipple.

“Oh fuck!” Link is too focused on wiggling out of his clothes to formulate a clever response. When Link finally manages to free his cock from its confines, it smacks firmly onto his stomach, and the pleased little chuckle Rhett issues in response is like soft velvet in Link's ear.

“So you probably shouldn’t chastise me too harshly for _my_ lack of transparency.”

Link is growing impatient with Rhett going on about who is more wrong; in fact, he might just be done talking altogether. He wraps his legs around Rhett and bucks his hips up to see if that could shut the other man up. But the move makes Rhett’s cock rub against his perineum, and Link’s brain short-circuits with the maddening pleasure of being touched so close to where he secretly wants it. All he can do is whimper helplessly and keep repeating the motion, working the head of Rhett's against that spot and mindlessly chasing his pleasure.

Rhett takes the cue to stop talking and pulls away to kiss a wet trail down Link’s body. After an eternity of teasing, he brushes his tongue over the reddened tip of Link’s yearning cock. He sucks on Link slowly, feather-light fingers trailing over his sack and beyond, just brushing over his hole as Link tries his best to moan encouragingly and telepathically convey yes, _please touch me right there_.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Rhett growls as he pulls away and reaches into the bag he left beside the bed. He produces a bottle, opens it, and pours some onto his hand as Link watches with delirious impatience. As his slick hand wraps around the base of Link's cock and twists, Link very briefly wonders why his friend would carry lube. Quickly, however, his attention shifts entirely to Rhett’s wandering fingers and he shivers, despite the heat running through his veins.

“What do you want?” Rhett asks. The lubed tip of his index finger remains right at Link’s opening, rubbing around the rim at a glacial pace.

“Please, Rhett.”

“Tell me.”

“Touch me there. Inside.” For a fleeting moment, he thinks he might die of embarrassment. But then Rhett does and oh fuck, why did he never ask for this before?

Just for a second, Rhett’s finger breaching him is uncomfortable and difficult and he has to put all his focus into relaxing himself. But it doesn’t take long for pleasure to take over, and soon he is gyrating his hips onto Rhett’s hand, emitting a happy purr every time Rhett’s finger hits a particularly good spot.

“More,” Link whispers, trying to shake off the residual shame of wanting _this_ , needing so bad for Rhett to keep touching him in that same place he grazed before.

“You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.” Rhett looks at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t care, I need it.”

If one finger was good, two are impossibly so. Link’s brain crackles with static as one of his hands trails up to grab a fistful of his own hair while the other snakes down to squeeze his shaft. Rhett takes his whimpers as an invitation to drive his fingers deeper still, and Link can no longer contain a wanton moan.

“Oh fuck, you gonna moan like that just from my fingers?” Rhett asks, other hand wrapped around his own dick.

Link is trapped between Rhett’s long fingers brushing him in just the right spot and the satisfying pressure of his own hand on his cock. They’ve built a rhythm together, Link is fucking himself on Rhett’s fingers in unison with stroking his own cock, and Rhett is jacking himself off, rubbing his cock head on Link’s thigh, leaving a glistening trail in his wake. Gosh, it almost feels like they’re fucking, Link realizes. He also realizes he’s not going to last very long. A sticky sweet high rolls over him like honey, in time with Rhett tracing sloppy kisses and hot breath over his skin.

“Please, don’t stop,” Link gasps when the ecstasy flows in, and Rhett doesn’t, he would never. Link’s orgasm is an unstoppable force of nature; hot and tingling waves spread from his groin to his extremities and back again, leaving him hazy and spent. He shivers and bucks into his hand, cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach.

As he comes down from his high, he registers Rhett still grunting above him, tense with need. Link wants desperately to reach out and touch him but his limbs have gone helplessly limp. As Rhett climbs on top of him and straddles his soft, warm body, Link can only smile a weak, intoxicated smile. He watches and babbles gentle words of encouragement as the golden statue of a man strokes himself above him, licking his lips with a wild and hungry look in his eyes and thrusting into his fist.

“Please, come for me baby.” Link murmurs and, in a need to feel Rhett fall apart for him, manages to reach for him and caress a hand up his thigh and torso. “Show me how bad you want me, darlin’.”

Rhett growls out a string of expletives as his body goes rigid and his cum spills out to mix with Link’s, a few milky drops landing somewhere in the dark hair on Link’s chest. A low, rumbling laugh escapes him as he collapses down onto the mattress beside Link. Link responds with a relieved chuckle of his own.

Afterwards they lie on the bed side by side, heads buzzing, breaths matched. Link turns on his side to face Rhett and places a soft palm on his ribs, to feel his heart pounding inside. He wants to say something, ask what this means for them, but the words stay stubbornly lodged in his chest, somewhere under the fear and his heart that’s beating just as loud as Rhett’s. Instead, he wraps his arm around Rhett and leans closer to press the whole length of his body against him, to make himself whole. _Be mine?_

Rhett kisses his forehead. Link can feel the smile on his lips and the little, happy hum vibrating inside him. He hopes it’s a yes. They keep breathing in time, relaxed into an embrace after decades of tension and holding back. Maybe talking can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on tumblr, I'm holdbythenotsharp there, too.


End file.
